Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(27 February 1807 – 24 March 1882 / Portland, Maine)

Today We Make The Poet's Words Our Own - Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To-day we make the poet's words our own,
And utter them in plaintive undertone;
Nor to the living only be they said,
But to the other living called the dead,
Whose dear, paternal images appear
Not wrapped in gloom, but robed in sunshine here;
Whose simple lives, complete and without flaw,
Were part and parcel of great Nature's law;
Who said not to their Lord, as if afraid,
"Here is thy talent in a napkin laid,'
But labored in their sphere, as men who live
In the delight that work alone can give.
Peace be to them; eternal peace and rest,
And the fulfilment of the great behest:
"Ye have been faithful over a few things,
Over ten cities shall ye reign as kings."

Topic(s) of this poem: graduation


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 10, 2015



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